


Family Dispute

by elisa_anya



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accountant Castiel (Supernatural), Adoption, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean, Demisexual Dean Winchester, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay Castiel (Supernatural), Kid Fic, Lawyer Sam Winchester, Legal Guardian Dean Winchester, M/M, Masturbation, Mentions of Suicide, Nurse Dean Winchester, Pansexual Dean Winchester, Top Cas, mentions of depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-20 21:04:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16145474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elisa_anya/pseuds/elisa_anya
Summary: A young woman abandons her newborn baby and Dean, the nurse who assisted in his delivery, adopts him. Months later, Castiel, the biological father, comes looking for his missing baby but Dean won’t let go without a fight.





	1. MINE

**Author's Note:**

> This is a small fic that consists on three parts.  
> WARNING: In the second and third parts, there will be mentions of attempted suicide, a successful suicide and depression, though neither of these three things are thoroughly described.   
> At the end of the first and second part, there'll be a short summary for the upcoming part, so if you want to avoid spoilers, don't read that.  
> Either way, the next chapter's coming out tomorrow.  
> Fair warning, I have very faint knowledge of how the legal, adoption, foster care and health systems work in USA, so please bear with me if I describe any procedures wrong or something and let's pretend, for the sake of the story, that this is plausible.   
> Now go read it and, hopefully, enjoy it!

Dean is there when Jack takes his first breath. The doctor offers the baby to his mother but she turns her head away, not sparing a single glance in the child’s direction, and starts to cry. Those are not happy tears. Even with the bags under her eyes and the wrinkles on her forehead marked by constant preoccupation, she looks young, probably not older than 25 years old. Dean is only a couple of years older than her and yet he still has the feeling she’s too young to be giving birth all by herself, since no friends or family checked in with her.

After an awkward silence, when it becomes obvious that the woman has no interest on meeting the baby, the doctor cuts the umbilical cord and passes the boy on to Dean instead. He’s is a delicate, light weight that cries in two big hands that are just enough to hold him. It always makes Dean feel like a giant when he holds a human life with his bare hands like that.

“Hey, there, buddy. Welcome to the world,” Dean whispers to him gently. Those are the first words ever spoken to Jack.

He gives the mother one last look in case she might have changed her mind, but she looks far from excited, clutching the thin medical sheet laying over her like a scared child would, silently sobbing her eyes closed and her mouth pulled into a tight line. She won’t be asking for the kid anytime soon, so Dean goes about the normal procedures commonly done after birth; cleaning him up a bit, measuring the weight and length, giving him vitamin K, screening for certain diseases… When it's all over, he goes back to the mother to try once again to introduce her to her son, but she's just lost in her own bubble of despair, so the nurse takes the boy back to the nursery room and prepares a bottle for Jack. They sit together in perfect harmony in a corner in a comfortable chair while Dean feeds the baby for the first time while he hums lullabies for him. Jack's a good boy and doesn't make a big fuzz before he latches onto the nipple of the bottle, one of his tiny little hands wrapped around one of the nurse's fingers. 

“Don't worry, kiddo, you're going to be just fine, you'll see. I’ll take good care of you until your family comes to getcha.”

And Dean lives up to the promise. 

The baby’s mother, who had apparently given them a fake name, checks herself out of the hospital a couple of hours later and leaves her still unnamed baby behind. Dean tells the child the news with a sad, heavy feeling in his gut,but the boy sleeps soundly in his arms, unaware that he's been abandoned.

The police and Child Protective Services pay them a visit at the hospital. The first group wants to find the mother, maybe there are grandparents out there who would want their grandson home, or a father. The second group comes to deal with the orphan.

“What's gonna happen to him?” Dean asks the woman, who's busily scribbling away in her notes. It’s feeding time again for Jack and he's a comfortable, warm weight on Dean’s arms. He's so good, so peaceful, Dean can't understand how a mother could have simply abandoned him like that but he tries not to judge her, remembering how scared and lonely she'd looked in her hospital bed.

“We'll place him in foster care until the police find his parents or other living relatives.”

“And if they don't?”

“Eventually he'll be given up for adoption.”

_ Given up _ . Dean cringes. It sounds like Jack’s a thing you can just give away, a present or, worse, trash, instead of a human, a newborn that needs attention, care and affection. Dean knows better than anybody how important it is that babies receive this when they’re so small, to encourage their physical and mental development. A baby in the foster care system… they’re not going to be able to give him what he needs, he’s seen this happen plenty of times already.

“Can't he just stay with me until you find his family?” he blurts out in the heat of the moment. Still, he doesn't regret asking.

The case worker looks taken aback. She does a double look on him, as if she could assess whether he was right for the job or not just by looking at him. After so many years of working the system, she kind of can; she’s seen all kinds of disaster parents and she’s learned to make out the good foster parents for the children’s sake by just spending a couple of minutes with them. The last ones are just as concerned and gentle as Dean, who is rocking Jack to sleep now with natural ease, seems to be.

“You want to take him home?” she asks not without a bit of scepticism. A young man like Dean isn’t her usual foster parent.

Dean shrugs like it's no big deal. “Sure. I mean, I have the training, the space, the money.”

“And the time?” she raises an eyebrow. Nurse’s schedules are crazy, everybody knows that.

“I’ll make it work.” She gives him an incredulous look, so he insists. “Please, just- I’m all he knows. I've been caring for him since the moment he was born, it's only right that I continue to do so. Please? Can it be done?”

She considers it for a moment. He's a nurse, he's willing, he seems great with the baby, and it'd keep Jack out of a foster home… What could possibly go wrong?

“You would have to fill out a form and we'll make a quick visit to your home to check everything's in order and suitable for the boy.”

Dean beams with satisfaction. “Sure, no problem.” He looks down at the sleeping baby and brushes his lips against his forehead. “You heard that, buddy? You're coming home with me…”

When Dean gets out of work that day, he buys a crib, a stroller, baby supplies to last a week and some clothes. He can’t help the sappy  _ aww _ s that come out of him while he shops for tiny versions of human clothing and he makes up for it by getting the child an AC/DC onesie to feel a little more manly. He takes some days off work; he hasn't in forever, he never bothers to take time for vacations, so they give it to him without a problem. He settles in with the boy, who still doesn't have a name but he secretly keeps calling Jack in his head, and starts a lazy routine that consists in sleeping a couple of hours at a time, feeding Jack when the baby demands it and walking around the park a lot. When Sam, his girlfriend Eileen and Charlie visit them, he gets an earful from all three of them; they warn him he should never take his work home, but neither can help succumbing to Jack’s cuteness and joining in on babysitting duty to allow Dean to sleep a couple of extra hours.

A week turns into a month. Dean buys more supplies, more clothes, and some toys. He officially starts calling Jack by his name out loud. Maybe his relatives will change it later, but for now the name seems to fit him, he looks like a cute little Jack. 

He goes back to work. Sam and Eileen, Charlie, Garth, Jo and Benny all help Dean out with the baby and take turns babysitting, and when he gets the night shift, Jack has a sleepover with his not-uncle. Dean looks at the way Sam and Eileen look together with a baby between them and wonders when he’s going to be an uncle from those two. Dean also starts looking for a daycare, just in case Jack ends up staying longer, so he won't have to daily abuse his friends' kindness for much longer.

Jack grows just enough to get out of the weird looking phase newborns have, to be a beautiful thing with blue eyes brighter than the clearest summer day, sandy dirty blond hair and a cute little nose the nurse just can't stop kissing. He's growing fast and healthy under Dean’s careful watch. Happy too, if Dean might say so himself. And the man is busy as fuck, barely has a moment to spare for himself to even shower, and he starts to realise dating is going to be out of the table for a while, but he also feels content in the impromptu living arrangement with the kid. He feels like a void in his life has been filled, like he’s found a more meaningful reason other than Netflix to return home; someone's finally waiting for him there.

One month turns into two. No word from Jack’s mother. No one has reported any girl missing, nor the baby. The police still don’t know her real name. No grandparents have come looking for a child. No sign of the father either.

“I bet there's a really good explanation,” Dean tells Jack. The baby stares right back at him, clumsily waving his hand on the nurse’s direction. His motor skills are laughable.

Dean can't understand the situation, how no one has come looking for this kid. If only they knew him, how good he was, such a calm baby boy who takes all his naps and barely cries during the day, surely then his family would want him. 

“I bet your mom just couldn't care for you, she knew she wasn’t the best option for you. That’s a kind of love, Jack, she wanted what was best for you. You  _ are  _ loved. I love you. Sam loves you. Charlie loves you…” and he goes on and on listing all his friends and family, all the clerks from the stores they frequent, everyone who has ever set eyes on him and has kindly given him a smile.

By the third month, Dean is both fearing and hoping to become Jack’s permanent legal guardian, a.k.a. his adoptive  _ father _ . He doesn’t want to think about it too much because he doesn’t want to freak out about it and Dean’s an expert at that. He’s not sure he’s ready to become a parent, he’s barely scratching his thirties, still feels like a kid who’s just come out of school even though he finished ages ago, and has the emotional balance of a toddler learning to walk. Not to mention he’s single and everyone knows the single parent life is an eternal struggle… But despite all of that he can’t help fantasising about it sometimes, wondering how Jack will look when he’s older, if he’ll like playing catch with him, if he would enjoy going out on camping trips with Dean. He can’t imagine coming home to an empty, silent apartment again, he fears the void will return with Jack’s absence.

Love wins over fear though; Jack’s four and a half months by the time Dean legally adopts him. They have a little party at Dean’s with all his friends and he knows in his heart, while he watches all the people that love them coming to his house to celebrate them, that he’s done the right thing. _The most wonderful things in life never come easy_ , he tells himself, so what if he’ll be sleep deprived for the next hundred years? Jack's worth it.

He holds Jack that night for a while longer after the baby’s eyes are closed for the day and looks down at him for a long, long time, smiling to himself.

“You’re my son now,” he whispers with a shy, goofy smile.

Dean properly prepares Jack’s room now that he’s officially staying with Dean for the rest of his life. He gets more clothes for the months that’ll follow, more toys, a high chair since the baby’s about to start experimenting with real food, and paints dinosaur silhouettes in the walls of Jack’s room. Dean used to had a dinosaur obsession phase when he was a kid and he hopes Jack will too.

By month 6, Dean has a great, carefully thought out routine and he lives by it religiously. He spends all his free time with Jack and he couldn’t be happier about it. Wherever Dean goes, Jack goes too. The entire neighbourhood clerks are familiar with them now and they all love Jack. Dean gets asked out a surprising amount of times in the supermarket, but he always declines the offers; at the moment, he doesn’t have either the time nor the interest to date. Dean knows exactly when the neighbour with that Golden Retriever walks his dog in the park and he takes Jack to see it because the babe thinks the fluffy, golden dog is hilarious. He’s obsessed with squirrels too. Strolls in the park also put Jack to sleep better than anything else, which Dean doesn’t get because the noise from traffic can still be heard, but apparently he enjoys the sound of the birds and the soft breeze more than he finds the cars disturbing. If that doesn’t do the trick, Dean knows playing a song in the guitar will for sure. Jack loves music and even more if it comes with his daddy’s voice.

They’re happy. Both of them are happy, living in harmony in their own little bubble. It’d been a while since Dean had enjoyed the simple things in life but now he finds joy at idiotic things like blowing bubbles over Jack’s head during bath time because it makes his son crack up like he’s a better comedian than John Mulaney. Even the things he used to do by himself before are improved, because there’s nothing more relaxing in the entire universe than watching Netflix with the comforting weight of his son sleeping on his chest. It gives him a peace like he’s never experienced before, it almost feels like he’s high on something.

He’s done the right decision, for Jack and for himself.

By the time everything goes to Hell, Jack is a little over 8 months old.

Dean’s having lunch at the hospital cafeteria with Sam, who works a couple of streets away from there. Sam is giving Dean a run down from his last rodeo at court when a guy comes up to their table.

“Dean Winchester?” he asks.

“Yeah?” 

He stretches a hand with an envelope in his direction. “You’ve been subpoenaed.”

“I’ve been  _ what _ now?”

“Give me that, I’m his lawyer,” Sam orders, not giving the messenger time to even reply before he rips the letter from his hand. He makes quick work to open it and his eyes fly over the letters with crazy speed. His face falls and something drops inside Dean’s stomach so fast, he gets a little dizzy.

“What? Sam, what is it?”

“Dean…” Sam looks up and swallows hard. For a moment Dean regrets asking. He wants to go back in time and stop the letter from ever arriving. He knows that face, he knows he’s about to hear something bad,  _ really  _ bad. “It’s about Jack.”

“What about him?” Dean asks through the thick lump in his throat.

“Someone's claiming him.”


	2. HIS

Dean doesn’t sleep the night before he takes Jack to the M.E. to get a DNA sample from him, like the subpoena demanded he did. In truth, he hasn't slept well in days. It’s selfish, he knows it, but he prays that whoever asked for the test is wrong, that Jack isn’t their son. He can’t be, because he’s _Dean’s_ now, he’s got a legal paper that proves it and all, if their love for one another isn’t enough proof as it is.

He prepares for the worse, for a legal battle, just like Sam told him he should, or at least he tries to, but he has no idea how to cope with the fear, the gut-wrenching threat that he might lose his boy. He remembers the look on his brother face like it was yesterday, it's imprinted in his brain and the memory runs over and over again in his mind like a broken record.

_“You need to take him down to a M.E.-”_

_“A what?”_

_“A medical examiner. They’re going to do a DNA test to see of he's their family,” his brother had explained to him the day the letter came._

_“Okay, but… but maybe there’s a chance they’re wrong, right?” Dean had foolishly hoped._

_Sam’s face had been enough to dissolve any hope left in him. “Dean… I doubt it… A judge wouldn’t allow a DNA request if they hadn’t presented sufficient evidence,” he’d told him._

Sam had seemed so worried, he'd given Dean this look of utter pity and fear, that Dean just knows in his heart that this guy, whoever he is, will most likely be able to keep Jack if he proves to be their biological family. He doesn’t know the law but he knows how to read his little brother better than he knows his own feelings.

Now Dean spends too much time staring at his son sleep, fearing maybe that’ll be the last day he gets to see that small nose, those chubby cheeks, the lazy smile on his son’s face while he dreams of something funny. He feels sick, he wants to cry and scream and shout at the sky, he wants to get down on his knees and pray to a God he’s never believed in.

When Sam comes bearing news that the test came back positive, Dean has a severe panic attack. He kneels down on the kitchen floor, eyes blurry with tears, hyperventilating. Charlie hurries to him, crouching down while she holds Dean and Sam promises he’ll fight for Jack’s custody.

“I mean, who the hell even is this guy? Who has a baby and doesn’t come looking for him for 9 fucking months? This is outrageous!” he fumes. Dean can barely hear him through the angry ringing in his ears. “I promise you, Dean, I’ll do my best to prove _you’re_ Jack’s real father! They’re not just going to take him, not if I have a say in it!”

It all goes downhill from there. His brother tells him to suit up because they’re going to meet with Jack’s father and his lawyer. Dean can barely walk straight, his legs feel like jelly as he follows his brother through corridors of the fancy, old building where he works. He feels disoriented and lightheaded. Finally, they come into a room where a woman with dark hair and a mean stare is waiting for them with a tall guy with eyes as blue as Jack’s. His suit is way nicer than Dean’s and he can smell money all the way from the door. The man looks past them for a moment, waiting for someone else to come in, then back at them, clearly disappointed when he doesn’t see the baby. Dean just feels like bolting.

“Morning,” Sam says in a politely neutral voice. How he is able to maintain his temper, Dean has no idea, he doesn’t think he could speak if his life depended on it. He’s so nervous, he might choke on his own spit. “My name’s Sam Winchester, this is my client Dean Winchester.”

Sam extends a hand towards the lawyer, who looks at it for a moment before she, rather reluctantly, shakes it.

“Meg Masters. You didn’t bring the boy?” she asks right away. Unlike Sam, she doesn’t seem to have the patience for formalities or pretending the tension in the air isn’t almost suffocating.

Dean almost wants to tell Sam they should go, that there was no point in meeting with these people. They had hoped to convince them Jack should stay with Dean but by the mere looks of it, this man is obviously not going to easily give up his parental rights. He looks agitated, borderline angry, while his lawyer looks like she’s as ready for a fight as Sam is.

“We didn’t think it was necessary, not today,” Sam replies smoothly.

The other man’s face twitches in disbelief. “You didn’t think it was necessary for you to bring my _son_ to his father?” 

“Cas.” Meg plants a hand on his shoulder and the man settles down a little. He looks up at her, huffs in silent disagreement with something, then looks back down in angry silence. Then Meg’s attention is back on Sam. “We’re here as a courtesy, Mr Winchester, because you called us. We can do this the easy way or we can do this the hard way. Let’s just stop and think for a moment what’s best for Jack.”

Sam shifts in his place and raises an eyebrow. “The best thing for Jack is to stay with my client.”

“We disagree. We think he’d be better off with his _family_.”

“ _We_ are the family he knows,” Sam argues. The level of his voice is still composed, but there’s definitely a meaner tone to it now.

Meg replies is more of a mockery. She speaks with a teasing tone, with just the same amount of politely contained hostility. “And we’re very thankful for how you cared for him, but now it’s time you give him back to his father.”

It’s like a dam breaks inside Dean’s mind and next thing he knows he’s yelling. He has no idea what he’s saying but the words come out of his mouth one after the other so quickly the rest can barely understand him.

“He's my son, _mine_ ! I took care of him since the day he was born! Hell, I _helped_ bring him into this world! He might not be my blood but he is mine! Please, you can't do this to us!”

He looks right at Jack’s father, eyes all but begging him not to proceed with whatever he’s got planned. He has to understand, he needs to let his son go, he doesn’t even _know_ him.

The man responds by rising to his feet and shouting back at him with the same desperation. “I’m not trying to hurt you, Mr Winchester, I am simply requesting that you give me my son back!”

It’s the way he keeps referring to Jack as his son that finishes driving Dean insane and all traces of sympathy and politeness go flying out the window. He hates the guy, he hates his stupid face, his stupid blue eyes, his fancy suit, he hates how he keeps referring to Dean’s son as his own. “Just because you got a girl pregnant doesn’t make you his father! You're as much of a parent as a sperm donor!” Dean spits at him.

The other looks like he’s been slapped across his face. He opens his mouth, ready to throw something back, but his lawyer puts an end to all the shouting.

“That’s enough, Mr Winchester!” Meg’s voice rises above theirs. She points a finger at the brothers, eyes narrowing threateningly. “You bring that child to his father or we will see you in court.”

“I guess I’ll see you in court, then,” Sam challenges her before he turns around on his heels and all but drags Dean out of the room.

A couple of days later, Social Services comes to take Jack away to a foster home while a subpoena tells Dean he needs to show up for court in a week’s notice. The only thing keeping Dean from fighting off the woman that is marching down the stairs of his apartment building with his baby and running away with Jack is Sam and his steady grip on Dean’s forearm.

“Dean, we’ll get him back, it’s only temporary,” he promises.

“But why can’t he just stay with me meanwhile?” Dean asks. His hands are shaking, sweating, and he feels like he’s going to pass out. Jack’s cries echo as the woman walks away from them. It’s 3 long sets of stairs down the building to the door and each step she takes feels like a punch to his heart.

“It’s what the judge ordered, we can’t do anything about it. Please come inside, we need to keep working.”

Dean barely eats or sleep. When he finds himself extremely distracted, he decides to take a few days off work before he makes some stupid mistake and harms someone. Having all that free time is worse for him though. He sits at home alone, next to Jack’s crib, clutching his favorite plushie, a large round bee he's sleept next to every day since he was only a couple of days old. Dea cries a little and sometimes a lot. Sam tells him to keep some faith, that he’s working his ass off to make a case against Castiel. He nods his head and tells Sam to keep working, but he feels dead inside already, hopeless. And he hates himself for having been so stupid, he should have known this was going to happen, good things don’t usually happen to him, Jack was just too good to be true.

It’s not just a day at court, but several, much to Dean’s dismay. He wants it all to be over, like quickly taking off a band-aid; better do it fast and spare yourself the time you spend wondering what it’s going to feel like when shit hits the fan. But Sam calls all of their friends to speak on Dean’s behalf. They all tell the judge what a wonderful father Dean is and give him small encouraging smiles that he can’t bring himself to return. Castiel -he’s learned that’s the name of the guy who is trying to steal his son- only brings two and his employer, who swears Cas is a smart man with a job with flexible hours and a good paying salary, better than a nurse’s.

Sam and Meg take turns destroying the other’s clients when it’s their turn in the stand.

Meg mockingly tells Dean that it warms her heart how many of his friends have testifies to help Dean out with the baby, but then she turns it around saying that if he needs that much help it’s because maybe he doesn’t have the proper time to care for the boy, which he doesn’t know how to respond to smartly, not when he’s under the spotlight and his heart is beating so fast he fears it’ll explode right out of his chest.

“I give Jack all my free time,” he manages to say in a somewhat steady voice. “There’s nothing wrong with some help.”

“Yes, everyone gets some help, but if you need the help of around 6 people, I am starting to question your ability to care for the boy.”

“Is there a question in there somewhere?” Sam complains from his chair.

The judge nods in agreement. “Move it along, Miss Masters.”

“Alright,” she smiles, undisturbed, then turns to Dean again. “Mr Winchester, when was the last time you were in a stable relationship?”

Sam scoffs. “Your Honor, what does that have to do with anything?”

“I just find it odd that a man his age who hasn’t been in a stable relationship with another adult in years suddenly decides to adopt a helpless baby boy. What’s that about, Mr Winchester? Why Jack, why now?”

Dean blinks at her a couple of times. It sinks in a moment later and he’s practically shaking with anger. “What are you implying?”

“Nothing, I just asked a question,” she replies innocently.

“Are you calling me a degenerate or something?” he fumes.

“Not at all. Are you?”

“My love life has nothing to do with Jack!”

“Alright, Miss Masters, enough, move it along,” the judge orders her. She smiles that nasty smirk of hers again and walks away.

Sam doesn’t spare Castiel any sympathy either and he also tackles intimate aspects of his life as soon as he gets a chance. He smooths his jacket with one hand as he walks towards the man, who looks as nervous as Dean did not long ago when he was sitting in the same chair. Dean has no time to feel sorry for him though, he _wants_ his brother to destroy him, make him look bad.

“Mr Novak, why is it that you’ve waited all this time to come looking for your son?” Sam asks. It sounds like one of those questions lawyers already knows the answers too, and they're just asking them to make you look bad. Sam is young but cunning, which is why he’s doing so great at his career.

Castiel fidgets in his seat and always keeps his eyes on his lawyer. Meg nods once in support.

“I didn’t know Jack’s mother was pregnant. I found out about him around four months after he was born.”

“Why didn’t she tell you she was pregnant?”

Cas is silent for a long moment. Sam gets in his line of vision, staring down at him with unforgiving eyes. The man looks down at his hands.

“We’d stopped seeing each other.”

“And then she died, overdosed, so she literally couldn’t tell you” Sam adds.

The witness gives him a tiny, fearful nod, his sad eyes never coming up to meet the lawyer’s. His entire body language screams insecurity and regret.

“Why did you stop seeing her?” Sam presses on.

“I broke it off.”

“You broke it off?” Sam repeats, huffing a laugh. “You mean you had a mental breakdown and you ended up hospitalized, so she couldn’t see you anymore? You all but abandoned her.”

“No, I didn’t!” Castiel barks, looking up at him with angry eyes.

“So you _weren’t_ hospitalized in a mental institution?”

Cas opens his mouth to speak then closes it again. He’s sweating. “Well, yes, I was-”

“Is it not in fact true that you were there because you attempted suicide too?” Sam demands to know, leaning in closer.

“My client’s medical history is not on trial here, your Honor!”

“I think it’s _very_ relevant. I don’t think Mr Novak is mentally fit to be a parent,” Sam argues.

“That’s outrageous!” Meg replies. “Should we take all babies away from their mentally ill parents? My client is recovered and getting the help he needs.”

“Your client has barely any friends, no support from his family and being a single father will only add to his stress. If he’s already unstable, adding a baby to the equation is _not_ going to help him. He’s already caused the death of Jack’s mother-”

“Mr Winchester, you’re going to far!” the judge warns him, giving him a stern look that silents Sam right away. “If you don’t have any other questions, take a seat.”

The young lawyer takes a deep breath and thinks quickly. He turns to Castiel again, who looks like he is about ready to burst into tears.

“Mr Novak, do you have any experience caring for children?”

It looks like it pains him to admit it, but Cas replies with a simple, dry, “no.”

“Do you know how to calm Jack down when he starts crying? What would you do if you needed to put him to sleep for his nap? He doesn’t go down without a fight.”

Castiel’s eyes fly to Dean, as if he could read the answer in his mind. “I… I’d rock him to sleep.”

“That doesn’t quite work with Jack, Mr Novak. Do you know what to feed a baby? Or how to change a diaper? How to treat a diaper rash?”

“I’ve read several books-”

“But you’ve never actually done any of those things, right?” Sam interrupts him, tilting his head to the side and wrinkling his nose in fake sympathy.

“No, but-”

“Have you got any friends with children that might give you advice?”

Castiel swallows and bites his lower lip. 

“No.”

“So you don’t know Jack at all, you have no experience with babies or any idea how stressful it can be to care for one all by yourself, and you are already kind of mentally unstable? Is that right, Mr Novak?”

“Mr Winchester,” the judge warns him.

“That’s okay, I have no further questions.”

Sam walks back to his chair with an air of triumph while Castiel stands up on shaky legs and goes back to his lawyer looking like a kicked puppy. Dean feels some kind of sadistic satisfaction watching him suffer; at least he knows what it feels like now.

He goes home to a empty apartment that night. Sam is there with him, keeping him company. The judge should make his decision tonight, and tomorrow they’ll hear about it. Dean feels like tomorrow can’t come fast enough and at the same time he wants to scream every time the handles on his watch move, marking the progress of time.

“You were pretty badass today,” Dean says, tone flat, empty, just to have something to hear other than that annoying ringing in his ears.

“Thank you,” Sam responds, giving Dean a small smile.

“How did you find out all those things about him?”

“It’s my job, Dean.”

Dean nods and takes a deep breath.

“That thing you said… that Jack’s mom overdosed… do you know when it happened?”

“A couple of days after she gave birth to him. Apparently she had a history with drugs, it’s a miracle Jack’s a healthy boy.”

Dean is quiet for a while. He thinks of her, young and desperate, alone that day in the delivery room. He can’t help but feeling he should have done more, he should have said something to her, offered her help.

“Stop it, Dean.”

“Huh?” Dean looks up, confused.

“I can feel you blaming yourself for her death all the way from here. It isn’t your fault. The people I talked to… They said she was always somewhat unstable. They said Castiel tried to help her but when he left, she went nuts.”

“Why did he do it though? Why did he try to kill himself?”

This time, Sam only shrugs. “I don’t know, nobody knows. My best guess is he did a good job keeping his own problems a secret, depression most likely.”

Dean slumps back on the couch. He tries not to think, not to feel… he doesn’t want to pity Castiel or Jack’s mother. He doesn’t want to feel sorry for them, for their pain. He doesn’t want to try to understand them, their lives, their decisions. He doesn’t even have the energy to hate them right now. He closes his eyes and all he sees in his son’s smile, he hears his giggles, his incomprehensible babbles. His chest begins to feel tight again, and he loosens his tie.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do if I lose him, Sam,” he confesses, his voice barely audible. “What am I supposed to do if he goes away? How am I ever going to pack his things and throw them out and pretend he never happened?”

Sam doesn’t reply because he knows there's nothing he can say to make things better, he can give no advice that will be helpful, but a secont later Dean feels the warmth of his brother’s hand on his shoulder. The silence is deafening and coming from Sam it feels like a bad omen.

The following morning, back at court, everyone waits nervously for the judge’s ruling. Everything, every person, moves in slow motion and yet so fast Dean tries not to see anything, it makes him dizzy, so he fixes his eyes on the scratch that’s in front of him in the old, wooden desk. The judge emerges from his chambers and sits at the front of the room. He gives both parents sympathetic smiles and clears his throat. Dean feels like he’s going to be sick on his shoes. He can’t quite understand what the man’s saying, nor does he care, not until he registers his name being called and he finally looks up to see the judge who is about to change his life staring straight at him.

“Mr Winchester,” he repeats, and then his face turns a little softer, which should be comforting, but it isn’t; he looks like an adult who is about to deliver some bad news to a kid. “The court would like to thank you for all the time, effort and love you have dedicated to raising this child when he was alone. You’ve done a wonderful thing and you should be proud of yourself. However, I cannot ignore the fact that Mr Novak is Jack’s biological father. He did not willingly gave his child away and I am sure Jack wouldn’t had been given up for adoption had he known earlier about him. The police should have done a better investigation, I am afraid. It is only fair that Mr Novak is given a chance to be a father to his son and-”

He’s not listening anymore. He looks to his right instead and sees that guy, Castiel, smiling with relief. Then white and black spots start to cloud his vision and he sits back on his chair. He hears chairs moving, people rising to their feet, chatter here and there, his brother’s voice calling him. He can’t move, he can’t breath.

 _This isn’t happening, it’s just a bad dream,_ he thinks desperately. _Wake up, wake up, wake up._

Jack’s cries come from the door's direction and Dean turns his head around to see Castiel marching towards him. Jack sees him, he sees Dean, and he cries louder, stretching his arms towards him. Dean rises automatically, without thinking, acting out on instincts, and only the barrier his friends and family create between them stops him when he tries to take the boy in his arms. Castiel takes the baby instead, and Jack fidgets in his arms, not finding comfort in the stranger. Then the man begins to walk away and his son’s cries become more and more distant, until he can’t hear them anymore.

Dean begs with himself. _Wake up, wake up, wake up._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter: Jack is in the hospital. A quite broken Castiel questions whether he made the right decision when he went looking for his son and Dean has mixed feelings about the man he's supposed to hate.


	3. OURS

It’s a whole lot of repressing feelings, drinking and sleeping right after work for Dean for the next five months. Sam’s expressed his concern a couple of times already, advised Dean to get help, see a grief counsellor or something, but Dean warns him that if he gives his unrequested opinion again, he’s going to get punched in the face. The drinking numbs his mind and the dreams ease his loneliness, if only for just a little while, when he sees Jack in them. He hasn’t touched any of Jack’s things, hasn’t even had the guts to go into his room ever since that day at court. He’s becoming depressed, he knows the signs, but he doesn’t really care to do something about it at the moment. He just returns home after work, drinks and waits. For what, he doesn’t know, he’s not sure. He has this stupid fantasy that Jack will remember him and he’ll come looking for his first dad years later, which is ludicrous, and even if it happened, he’d have to wait years to see him again. He prays that he’ll run into Castiel, that he will see Jack again, but at the same time he doesn’t know how he’d react, doesn’t think he would be able to walk away from the kid a second time without falling into some sort of argument or fight with the father. Maybe he’s waiting for Castiel to change his mind, to realise he made a mistake, that he’s not cut out to be a father, maybe he’ll take Jack back to him. Or perhaps he’ll decide to attempt suicide again and this time he will succeed, and then Dean will be able to adopt Jack again. He’s so drunk he can’t even begin to feel sorry for that train of thought, though he hates himself for it the next day.

Then something finally happens.

He’s getting ready for a delivery when Jo, who also works at the hospital, comes running to let him know Jack has been admitted into the hospital by his father. Dean's stomach drops and a dozen different thoughts flash in the back on his mind; _is Jack okay? Is it serious? Will I be able to sneak in and see him? Has he grown a lot since the last time we saw each other? What the fuck did Castiel do, how did he fuck up so quickly?_ There are wild images running through his head, he's picturing all kinds of crazy scenarios in which Jack gets hurts, and a wave of powerful anger and resentment rushes through his veins; this is all Castiel's fault, Dean had always known the other man would not be a better father than him. Jack had spent months with Dean in perfect health and only five months into living with Castiel, he had to be admitted into a hospital. What had the brute done to his son?

As soon as he can take his break, he runs to Jack's room. He finds the doctor on the way and gets him to tell him about the baby; he's had an allergic reaction to food and needs to spend the night at the hospital, but he will be fine. When he hears this, Dean deflates and sighs, relieved to hear the boy isn't in any danger.

Slowly, he approaches the room. Jack is in a small hospital bed that resemblances a tall crib, in the centre of a room, apparently sleeping after all the previous drama, and Castiel is sitting on a chair next to him, hands buried on his face, shoulders shaking. He's sobbing, sniffling loudly. Unexpectedly, something inside Dean shifts. He can't help it, it's programmed into him to try and help people, he's never before held a grudge against anyone, and watching this grown man crying on his own... he can't help but feel sorry for him. He tries to go back to his anger, his resentment, but it eludes him, escapes him like sand slipping through his fingers. Try as he might, Dean’s got a good heart that doesn’t allow him to hate on someone who clearly needs help.

Not without hesitation, knocks on the door to announce his presence and takes a few step inside. Castiel jumps on his seat and turns his head around. His bloodshot eyes widen when he sees Dean.

"Do you work here?" he asks incredulously. Dean nods. "What do you want? If you've come to say I told you so, save it, I know I've messed up, okay? I know," he barks, tears shamelessly running down his cheeks. He turns around to look down at his son and softly ghosts the tips of his fingers across the sleeping child's forehead. His movements are unsure but tender.

"You were a better father than me," he continues bitterly. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

It was but Dean’s surprised to find it isn’t anymore. The words are hollow, they do nothing to ease Dean's ache, they don't give him any sort of satisfaction. He wants to be angry, he wants to yell and tell him he should have left Jack right where he was, he’d fantasised about it so many times, but now he has the chance and a justification, all he sees is a desperate, lonely man trying hard to love his kid, not knowing what to do with this unexpected parenthood.

"You're not a bad father," Dean can't believe he is hearing himself say but apparently he is, using that calm and kind tone he always uses with concern parents at the hospital. "It could have happened to anyone. You didn't know. These things happen all the time with kids."

"Did it ever happen to you?" Castiel asks him, tilting his head slightly to the side to look at Dean from the corner of his eye. His cheeks are glistening with tears. Dean's silence is enough of an answer. "Yeah, I didn't think so..."

"It was just bad luck, that’s all. He's fine now."

"He's in the _hospital_."

"He'll be out tomorrow. And then you can... you can take him back... home. Everything's going to be okay."

Castiel laughs bitterly, hiccups and chokes on a sob. Jack’s hand twitches in his sleep, his father runs his fingertips over it.

"Home..." he mutters under his breath. He takes a deep breath and runs a shaky hand through his ever messy hair. He looks like crap, far different from the fancy man he looked like at court. "It's no better at home. He hates me. He cries all the time and I never know what he wants, I don't know how to please him."

Dean takes a deep breath. He can’t quite believe what he’s doing, that he is trying to comfort the guy who took his son away from him and shattered his hopes and dreams, the man who turned his life upside down for the worse, practically caused him to become depressed, but Dean can’t help it, not when it’s probably in Jack’s best interest. Things are what they are, might as well help the guy if it helps the boy Dean loves so much. "He doesn't hate you, he's just a toddler. Toddlers cry."

"Did he cry that much with you?" the man asks him with hopeful, wide puppy eyes. They look so big through those lens of tears.

The nurse shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other. The answer is no, Jack was always a calm, cheerful babe when he was under his care. He understands, though, that the change of scenery and schedules are probably upsetting the baby. He must miss Dean just as much as his adoptive father misses him, his life changed drastically too, suddenly all the people and places he ever knew were gone without an explanation. But Castiel should have known the transition wasn’t going to be easy, Sam had _warned_ him… Or more like tried to scare him, but whatever…

"It is me, then," Cas slumps heavily against the back of the chair, looking miserable.

Dean doesn't know what else to say, how to make things better. He can't, he can't just solve this with words this time, just as his friends can't help him get out of his misery either.

"What if I made a mistake?” Castiel whispers shyly, and Dean has to strain himself and stand perfectly still to hear him. “Maybe... maybe I should have left him with you. He was happy with you, healthy, wasn’t he? God, I've ruined everything. I _always_ ruin everything. It's one thing to ruin my life, but his… _yours_ … God, what have I done?"

Castiel sets his jaw and pulls his mouth into a tight line that trembles with the effort of holding back tears. His pain is so evident, so raw, Dean can't bring himself to even remember why he hated the guy so much for a moment. He's not a sadist, he has a good heart, and he can't bear watching someone suffer so much, especially knowing this is a person who not long ago tried to take his own life. He stayed quiet once, he allowed Jack’s mother to suffer alone in silence, and that got her dead, Dean can't allow himself to just stay neutral again if it might cost someone's life, so instead this time he hurries towards Castiel and sits on the edge of the chair right next to him, turning on his seat to face him. He plants a hand on the other's man knee, hoping Cas will let him touch him. He does. When he turns to meet Dean's gaze, he looks 10 years younger and possibly even more vulnerable than he’d looked at court. He simply looks like a man who needs help and apparently there’s no one else there to give it to him, so Dean has to, or at least that’s what he tells himself.

"Listen to me. You're probably sleep deprived, okay? That really screws up with your brain and your mood. And you've... You've probably been through a lot. Being a single parent is not easy. This is new and this is hard, but you've survived a 100% of your days with Jack and you will continue to do so because you're all that boy has. Give yourself a little credit and give him time, he needs to adjust to you too.”

“It’s been over 5 months,” Castiel argues.

“Yeah, well, both of you have been through big changes. Listen to me. You've gotta be organised and patient. It's extremely important that you establish a regular feeding and sleeping schedule, for the both of you, and you must stick to it like your life depends on it because if you don't catch some sleep too, you're going to go insane, okay?"

Cas sniffles and nods. Tears gather at the tip of his long eyelashes and roll down his right cheek. But he isn't crying anymore, he is giving Dean all his attention, drinking in the advises of the man that took such good care of his son not long ago.

"I try, but he fights me every time I want him to take a nap."

Dean smiles at the memory of Jack doing the exact same to him. "He doesn't wanna take the midday nap, huh?" Cas shakes his head. He looks slightly insane with his red eyes and hair sticking out in all directions, like he hasn’t slept in ages. Dean pats the other's knee in support and sits back on his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "Yeah, I know, he's stubborn like that. Take him for a walk around the park in his stroller. That'll do the trick. That works if he's crying a lot too, he gets transfixed when he sees dogs or squirrels, it shuts him right up."

Cas chuckles. It's a small and tired sound, but the weak smile looks good on his face. It occurs to Dean that he doesn’t completely hate that smile, that it doesn’t seem to be mocking him like it did back at court.

They both tear their eyes from each other and fix them on the toddler they adore. He looks peaceful, despite the cables that hang around him, the regular beeps of the machines in the room.

"Do you love him?" Dean asks all of a sudden, the question escaping his lips without permission.

Cas stares at him with a surprised, almost offended expression in his face. "Of course I love him, he's my son."

"Then you did the right thing, Castiel... Parenthood is hard. Doing it on your own, it feels nearly impossible. Trust me, I've been there. But you came back for your baby and you care, you're trying, I can tell. Do your best, that's all we can do as parents. Just love him and keep trying. You'll be fine. Jack will be fine. You'll get used to each other, give it time."

Jack's father nods and takes a deep, calming breath. He still looks exhausted, but there's something slightly different about him, he seems a little less miserable. Dean is glad to have helped, that's what he does for a living after all, even if he’s still pretty much dying inside.

With a reluctant sigh of his own, Dean gets to his feet and leans over Jack's small hospital crib to take a closer look at him. He wishes he could pick the baby up, hold him, kiss him, but he knows he can't, and it's better that way anyway, so Jack won't see him and suffer more than he has to with another goodbye. The sooner he forgets about Dean and learns to love his real father, the easier it'll be for him, and Dean wants nothing but the best for his son.

“Anyway, I just wanted to make sure he was fine. I’ll leave you two in peace now.”

Dean fights tears of his own as he turns and begins to walk away.

"Wait!"

Cas jumps to his feet and then just kind of stands there, awkwardly looking at the nurse while he tries to think of something to say. This has been the first real, meaningful conversation he's had with an adult that wasn't work related since he got custody of Jack and for some odd reason he doesn't want the nurse to go just yet.

"Yes?"

"I just... I... I want to apologize. For everything. For the things Meg said at court. For the pain I’ve caused everyone. I'm sorry, I just... I was just trying to do what I thought was the right thing. You took good care of my son and I never even thanked you for it."

Dean spares him a small smile and shrugs with one arm. "It was my pleasure, you don't need to thank me. And for what is worth, I'm sorry too. Sam really didn’t mean those things he said in court, I hope you know that, he was just trying to do his job. And I… I just didn't want to accept the truth... that you're his father, not me."

Dean chews the insides of his cheeks as Cas holds his stare, biting so hard he can taste blood. There are no winners or losers anymore, just two men trying their damn best and usually failing, apparently. It is only now that Dean realises how similar they are, how much he wishes Castiel good fortune and happiness, if it means his son will have a good life too.

He nods a polite goodbye, not trusting his voice, but Cas moves another step closer, stretching a hand towards him. He catches himself and draws it back, but in a hurry he says, "I know I am in no position to ask you for anything but..." he stops and chews his lower lip. He looks like he's struggling to find the right words and, really, he just always looks like he's struggling with something.

“What is it, Cas?”

The nickname surprises Castiel, though Dean doesn’t even notice it, it just rolls out his tongue easily. It’s enough to give the man a little more courage though, because then he says, "I, hmm, could use some help... If you are ever... free and wouldn't mind going for a cup of coffee with me..." He trails off and does an awkward shrug as he waits for Dean's reaction. “I could use some advice, Dean. And I’ll even bring Jack with me so you can see him.”

The nurse, on his part, tries not to trip on his own feet as he turns on his spot with wide, hopeful eyes. "Really?" he breathes out, his heart beating furiously against his chest with newfound hope, something he hasn’t felt in months. If he could just see Jack again, one more time, one more hug, even if for only a moment…

His ex enemy smiles shyly. "I could _really_ use some help," he admits.

Dean nods an unnecessary amount of times. "Yeah, yeah, sure, of course."

Cas gets his hand on his pocket and takes out his cellphone. He taps on it a couple of times, then hands it over so Dean can add his phone in the contacts list. Then the nurse hands it back. For a moment they just stare at each other, both confused by the last 10 minutes and how politely they’ve behaved towards each other. Neither would have imagined they’d part ways with an agreement to meet up when they thought of what it would be like to run into each other again, but life is strange like that sometimes.

"Very well, then... I'll give you a call soon, Dean"

Dean will we waiting for it desperately. "See ya, Cas," is all he says though, and leaves to continue his shift.

That night Dean goes to Jack’s old bedroom. He takes the bee plushie from the crib and holds it in his hands for longer than it would consider to be healthy for a grown up, standing alone in the dark in a room that has no purpose anymore. Then he puts it in his backpack to give it to Castiel the next time they see each other. Maybe he’ll be crossing some kind of delicate line, but he has this stupid urge to give the thing back to Jack; it was his first toy ever and Dean wants him to have it, maybe then one day he’ll remember the man that used to be his father or ask about him.

He’d hoped Castiel would call but he hadn’t _really_ expected him to, he thought the other man had just made the promise in the heat of the moment, probably out of pity, so when he does two days later, Dean almost chokes on his beer from the excitement. They have a short conversation and agree to meet for lunch in two days. He hears Jack babbling in the background and it both makes him strangely happy and deeply sad. When Cas hangs up, he’s left sitting alone on the living room feeling the urge to call someone, probably Sam, and tell him everything he’s been keeping secret for days because it's easier to hope in silence than share it with someone else, but he decides not to when he imagines his friends warning him against meeting with Castiel. He can perfectly imagine his brother’s voice or Charlie’s, telling him that he needs to let go, that this will only hurt him, but they can’t understand what he’s going through, how desperate he is. He’ll do anything for Jack, even if it might eventually break his heart all over again.

When the day of the date arrives, he’s so nervous he leaves his house unnecessarily early and arrives 40 minutes ahead of schedule, even when he had tried stalling by washing all the dishes and ironing his shirt. He sits in the little shop sipping coffee, which is a bad idea because his heart is running fast enough on its own without adding caffeine to the mix, but the warmth of the porcelain in his hands feels nice, it comforts him a little bit. Then Dean waits and waits, nervously tapping his foot against the floor, glancing obsessively back and forth between his watch and the big front window of the store. He’s on the edge of his seat by the time Castiel’s supposed to arrive. Five minutes after the agreed meeting time, he is sweating, wondering if perhaps Cas has changed his mind, if he’s not coming after all. He starts to get angry again, at himself for being such a naive fool, and at Castiel, who should at least have the decency to call him and tell him to fuck off. Five more minutes after that, his date does call, but not to tell him to fuck off.

“God, Dean, I am so sorry, I was attempting to feed Jack before our meeting but he threw his bowl on the floor -he just _loves_ to do that-, and I slipped and dropped a whole bag of flour all over the kitchen. It’s a mess!”

Cas rambles on and on, speaking fast while in the background Dean can hear Jack fussing and trying to catch his father’s attention. Dean feels a stab of pain in his heart when Jack calls Castiel _dada_ over and over again. He can't help thinking he should have been there when he learned that word and that it should have been directed at him.

It takes him a while to realise Castiel has stopped talking and he's supposed to say something. And, also, breathe.

Dean blinks a couple of times and clears his throat. “Cas, it’s fine-”

“No, no, no, I hate being late, and I bet you were really looking forward to seeing Jack- Jack- _Jack_ , no! Stop throwing things, son! Dean- just- _ouch_ , fudge!”

Dean can’t help snorting. “Did you just say _fudge_ instead of fuck?”

“Dean, please, _language_ , you’re on speaker! Anyway, my place is a disaster and I have to change my clothes _and_ Jack’s, so we’re going to be quite late.”

“Well, I could just go over if you want and give you a hand,” Dean offers without thinking it through.

There’s a long silence from the other end of the line, except for the incoherent words Jack attempts to speak. Dean’s heart constricts for a moment and he fears this is it, this is the moment he scares Castiel off, but then he hears a relieved sigh coming from Castiel.

“You wouldn’t mind?” he asks.

“No, not at all. Just text me your address, I’ll be right over.”

“Okay, thank you.”

Confused, completely taken aback by the turn of events, Dean’s left dumbly staring at his phone for a couple of seconds until a message comes through from Cas’ number. It’s an address in a building close by to the shop. Dean definitely does not run out of the shop and to his car… or maybe just a little. When he gets there and Cas buzzes him in, he imagines if his life were a movie, there’d be a dramatic pause during which he’d stare at the door before he knocked, but instead he just goes straight towards it, not able to take a another single moment of waiting and wondering, and bangs his knuckles on the wood twice without any hesitation.

A moment later, Castiel opens the door. Dean can’t help the small chuckle that escapes his lips when he sees him; Cas has flour all over his shirt, pants and hair, which looks messier than ever. Inside, Jack’s starting crying.

“Bad day, Cas?” he laughs because the accountant looks hilarious right now, all rattled and out of breath.

“And it’s barely midday,” Castiel sighs and steps aside to let him in.

Dean comes in and takes a quick look around. It looks like an apartment that used to be fancy with a nice view owned by some rich guy with classic taste but is now crawling with toys, blankets and diapers that are laying in extremely odd places, distributed all over the living room. There’s a huge stain on the back of a very expensive looking couch, tomato sauce is Dean’s best guess, a forgotten bowl with remains of something that seems to be too old to still be laying around, baby books scattered all over the coffee table, and he notices how valuable decoration or anything made of glass has been moved to higher shelves of the beautiful, wooden bookcase that takes up an entire wall in the room. To the right there’s a door that leads to a kitchen, towards which Dean follows Cas. They come into an amazing, large, state-of-the-art kitchen which right now has its wooden floor painted white with powder, but Dean only has eyes for the small child sitting on his high chair chewing some small pieces of cheese. He looks up at Cas and does a short sort of irritated huff, demanding his attention. Dean holds his breath, but Jack barely seems to notice him at all, and he feels something break inside of him as he wonders if Jack has forgotten him already.

Jack extends his hand towards Cas, looking at his dad like he’s challenging him, and then lets the cheese cube fall onto the floor.

“Jack, _please_ , will you eat something?” Cas sighs as he runs a hand down his face. He marches towards his son, almost slips on the flour and steadies himself against the kitchen counter.

“Okay, okay, _stop_ ,” Dean orders Castiel, deciding to take matters into his own hands. Maybe Jack doesn’t remember but he sure as hell _needs_ him as much as Cas does. “This is what’s going to happen. Change his clothes, change _your_ clothes, clean your hair,” to this Castiel gives him a confused look, like he has no idea his hair looks ridiculous right there and then, “and I’ll help you clean up. You weren’t kidding, this place is a mess, Cas.”

“The nanny is sick, she usually cleans up too,” Cas mutters, his cheeks burning a bright red.

“And what, you don’t have any friends that can help you out, babysit for a few hours?” Dean asks, thinking back on the handful of friends that went to speak on his favour at court.

Cas lets out a sort of slightly hysterical laugh. “I wouldn't trust my friends to babysit Jack for 10 minutes even if they knew how to change a diaper, which they _don’t_ . The only time Meg ever held him, she almost _dropped_ him. My best friend, Gabriel, refuses to even let me show him how to change a diaper. They're ten times worse with kids than I am… and that's saying something.”

Dean decidedly ignores any mention on the lawyer he hates passionately and starts opening doors until he finds a vacuum cleaner. Cas takes Jack from the high chair and walks out the kitchen while Dean starts to clean the floor. By the time the father and son are back with clean clothes and no signs of flour on them, Dean’s erased all traces of dirt and food from the perfect wooden pattern that adorned the kitchen floor, and the room is back to looking pretty decent. He’s even managed to fit almost all of the dirty dishes inside the dishwasher, so the counters are free and clean again.

“Wow, you’re fast,” Cas compliments him as he takes a look around the kitchen; it’s the best it’s looked all week.

“Yeah, well, I’ve been cleaning people’s messes for a long time,” Dean mutters under his breath. Dean’s been cleaning his home ever since his drunk dad decided he wouldn’t anymore and his eldest son was all but left in charge of raising his own brother; he didn’t want Sam to live in a filthy house, so he took it upon himself to clean from time to time. Dean knew how to be efficient, fast, so he could go back to playing and being a kid himself as soon as possible.

“You’ve no idea how thankful I am, Dean. We both are, right, Jack?”

Cas bounces Jack on his arms and the baby giggles. Dean watches them for a long moment; he can’t help but admit they do look like father and son. Jack is nearly all Castiel, except from his blond hair, which he takes from his mother.

For the first time, Jack observes Dean. He frowns a little as he studies the person in front of him, then smiles at him, but then shoes away and lays his head on his father’s shoulder, trying to hide his face from Dean.

“Hey, Jack,” Dean tries to say, but it comes out as an awkward choke. He clears his throat before he speaks again, trying his damn best to stay composed. “Hey, Cas, why didn’t you change his name? I mean, you could have…”

Cas shrugs and smiles sympathetically. "It fits him, doesn’t it? It’s a lovely name. Would you like to hold him?”

“Yeah,” Dean responds a little too fast. “I mean, if you don’t mind.”

“You just cleaned my kitchen, Dean. I think I owe you,” Cas chuckles. He walks closer, shifting his son’s weight on his arms so he can pass the child on to Dean. “Jack, do you remember Dean? He’s come to visit you, that’s very nice, huh?”

Jack fusses a little, looking at Castiel for reassurance when he is suddenly being placed in Dean’s arms. He’s heavier than the man remembered but it still feels just as natural and right as it always did. Embarrassed as it might make him feel, Dean can’t help it when tears up a little; he had never really thought he’d get another chance to hold Jack like this again. He opens his mouth to say something, but instead he closes it again and blinks fast a couple of times, bringing his lips to the boy’s hair.

“It’s okay if you forgot me,” he whispers low enough so Cas won’t hear, “it’s okay, I understand.”

Jack turns around on his arms to better look at him. Dean thinks he’s imagining it but he could swear he is _seeing_ Jack trying to remember, thinking hard. Maybe he does remember, maybe he just decides he likes Dean, but either way he starts smiling at him, babbling things Dean can’t understand for the most part, try as he may.

“You should be napping, buddy,” Dean tells him when he trusts his voice again.

“I tried the stroll in the park, it worked just like you said,” Cas beams happily.

“It rarely ever doesn’t,” Dean smiles, proud of himself and his knowledge on Jack. “I think he’s fussy, he probably didn’t sleep very well last night, I guess he’s more eager to take a nap than eat. What do you say we go out for a walk, get him to sleep, and then we’ll come back and fix your living room? It’s like a nursery exploded in there.”

Blushing again, Cas nods and together they go out for a walk. Just as Dean predicted, Jack gets knocked out in just a couple of minutes while the adults discuss raising kids, Cas explains the mess in the kitchen -“I was trying to make homemade bread, so I wouldn’t have to buy the ones that come with preservatives and who knows what else, you know?”- and Dean tells him all about the wonders of having a board with an organised schedule and meal plans. When they’re back in the apartment, Cas lays Jack down for a bit on his crib, then together they put the living room back to its former glory (or most of it). Castiel makes tea, which Dean hasn't drank in ages but what the hell, it’s an unusual day so he might as well try something new, and they sit in silence for a moment in the couch. It’s not an uncomfortable kind of silence though, just a peaceful pause people learn to appreciate when they have kids.

“This is very strange. I would have never imagined I’d end up having tea with you on the couch,” Castiel admits, offering Dean a friendly half smile. “Meg would kill me if she knew I invited you over.”

“My brother would kill me too.”

They give each other a complicit smilewhile each imagines their respective loved ones going nuts if they caught them together, doing something that strangely resemblances hanging out as if they were friends. And the weirder thing yet is that talking to each other kind of feels as easy as if they were, in fact, friends. Cas brings some of the baby books and asks for more advice, double-checking things he wasn’t sure about, taking notes when Dean says something particularly useful. Jack wakes up some time later and plays with his blocks on a colourful playmat while Castiel and Dean watch him.

Dean isn’t sure whether Jack remembers his bee plushie or not, but he goes straight to it when Dean gives it to him.

It doesn’t take long for the baby to warm up their guest and by the end of the evening, he is all smiles and giggles as he plays with Dean while Cas makes dinner.

He hadn’t really expected Castiel to make a plate for him but his host insists he stays, kind of begs him to really.

“I haven’t had dinner with another adult in _weeks_ , Dean,” he confesses as he sets down two plates of pasta for them and another tiny version for Jack, who inevitably makes a mess of it, but at least Dean’s there to help Cas stop the baby when he tries time and time again to throw the pasta on the floor.

“He’s really obsessed,” Dean notes, lifting an eyebrow as Jack wrinkles his nose in amusement.

“ _Right_ ?” Castiel sighs, relieved. “So it’s not me! He _is_ obsessed, isn’t he? He won’t eat anything unless he throws half of it on the floor.”

“Maybe he just doesn’t like it?” Dean speculates, moving his pasta from side to side with his fork. It’s one of the worst things he’s ever had. “Honestly, Cas, I am thankful you invited me to dinner but maybe next time I should cook.”

Cas gasps, offended. “Hey, I can cook.”

“Not pasta, you can’t,” Dean chuckles, then turns to Jack. “Right, kiddo?”

Jack giggles, grabs another fistful of pasta and throws it on the floor before he can be stopped. Cas sighs in defeat, Dean chuckles.

“Is it really that bad?” Castiel asks, tilting his head to the side, confused; in his opinion, it is pretty damn good.

“I bet there are some homeless people out there who would be very grateful to eat this but Jack and I have finer palates. Don’t worry, we’ll work on your cooking skills.”

When Dean leaves that night, he doesn’t feel half as empty as he did the night before, although walking away from Jack again leaves a bitter taste in his mouth that is mostly unrelated to the pasta he had to endure to be polite. At least he has a task now, homework; the next day he busies himself making a list of all the things he remembers Jack likes to eat the most and looking for recipes he’d try on the kid if it were up to him. He organises all the information and puts in on a folder inside his backpack, ready to take him to Cas when they meet again…

Which happens only three days later. Cas will be home late from work and asks Dean to go over his apartment, if he can, so the nanny can go home. He plays with Jack, who apparently has no problem being left alone with Dean, gives him a bath, and waits for Cas so they can get started on cooking his lessons. It’s the first time in forever Jack is busier eating the food than throwing it, so Cas starts to follow Dean’s recipes religiously.

Two days later they go out for a walk on the park during Dean’s break at work. Jack sleeps through most of it but Dean still has a nice time and gets to give him a big kiss and a hug before he goes back to work. Castiel’s company isn’t bad either, and they exchange photos of Jack, of the periods of time during which each man was absent in the kid’s life.

Four days after that, they do lunch; it’s the first time Cas gets to go out to a restaurant since he got custody of his son, since he gets usually too anxious about Jack making a scene and people looking at him and judging him to go out on his own. But together they give Jack enough attention that he never throws a fit. Castiel leaves feeling pretty happy with himself.

Then Cas goes over to Dean’s to pick up some of Jack’s old toys a couple of days later and ends up staying for pizza. Cas dozes off on the couch and Dean lets him rest while he goes out for a walk around the neighbourhood with Jack. They catch that neighbour with the Golden Retriever and Jack nearly poops his pants from the excitement, which makes Dean think he must remember it at some level.

His mood is considerably better. The situation is far from ideal but it's better than nothing, Dean figures, and Castiel’s mental state seems to improve too with all the help he's getting. At least now Dean can think of Jack without breaking into tears, at least now he will get to see the boy grow, even if it's from a distance. Either way, he's almost back to being his old self; he's more cheerful at work, he doesn't feel tired all the time anymore and he stops drinking almost entirely, except for when he goes out with his friends, who are surprised to see him out and about again.

“Are you dating someone?” Charlie asks him while they’re having a drink with Sam and Benny one night. “You’ve been busy and all secretive lately.”

Dean shakes his head. “No…”

“But…?” Sam sings, lifting an eyebrow.

“I have been going out more,” Dean confesses and rolls his eyes.

“With who?” Benny inquires, leaning closer and narrowing his eyes at his best friend.

“Just a friend,” Dean shrugs the question off, sipping his beer just to have something to do with his hands. He doesn't want to talk about Castiel with them, he doesn't want the inevitable lecture he would receive about how this is a terrible, terrible idea because he already knows he's been caught up in a emotionally risky situation, but he can't even pretend to want to stop.

His friends and brother look at each other in complete disbelief; no one is buying his bullshit.

“You have _other friends_?” Charlie jokes, pretending to sound outraged.

“Are we talking about you making a friend that you’re gonna want to bone later?” Benny winks at him and elbows him in the ribs.

“I’ve _just_ said I’m not dating.”

“Then why are you being so weird about this?” Sam asks as he studies his brother thoroughly with a look of suspicion that he usually reserves for witnesses while he interrogates them.

“I’m not being weird, _you’re_ being weird,” Dean, not smoothly at all, replies.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that, Dean. Whatever you’re doing, it’d better not be drugs.”

Dean rolls his eyes again and makes sure to change the subject; he’s having a nice night out with his friends for the first time in a very long time, last thing he wants is to ruin it by confessing he’s been hanging out with his ex-son’s real father, something that will most likely, sooner or later, come back to bite him in the ass if a raging depression doesn’t soon because as nice as it is to see Jack from time to time, it still kills him not to have him in his life every single day.

The next time he sees Castiel, it’s Friday and Dean is out of work early, so he goes to Castiel’s, relieves the nanny and starts making pizza for the three of them. Cas has no problem leaving Dean with his son instead of the nanny for longer periods of time, since his new friend has proven not to plan to kidnap his son any time soon. He has a very nice time with Jack, making a whole show of throwing the pizza dough into the air a couple of times, which the toddler finds utterly hilarious.

After dinner, they play Finding Nemo on Netflix, which is slightly ridiculous because Jack is already falling asleep, wrapped up as a large size burrito between them in the couch, but Castiel is afraid of choosing another movie in case they contain curse words. Dean doesn’t admit to cursing all the time while the kid was in his custody.

“I can’t believe it's Friday night, I’m 30 years old and I'm here watching a Pixar movie I don’t really understand, with you of all people. Also, I find it highly doubtful all those animals speak the same language,” Cas sighs somewhere in the middle of the movie, when he comes back from laying down Jack for the night. He's looking at the screen with utter confusion.

Dean chuckles. He loves it when Castiel gets all literal and complains about fantasy movies not making any sense. “Parenthood will do that to ya, Cas. Also you’re the one who didn’t want to watch an adult movie. ”

“Yes, okay, but what's _your_ excuse?”

Dean shrugs. "This counts as going out for me, technically."

"Don’t you have anything better to do than spend time with me?"

"You mean hang out with a _friend_?"

Dean’s not sure he’s offended or if he finds it somewhat endearing when Castiel reacts all surprised to being called a _friend_. Are they not, after all?

"Well... I suppose you're right... But, I mean, let's be serious, a man like you..." He waves a hand in Dean's general direction, eyes scanning Dean in a second, then pointedly looking away. "You could be out having a lot more fun, if you know what I mean. I haven’t slept with anybody or even came close to dating since Jack’s mother got pregnant.”

Dean chuckles. "I could babysit overnight for you if you wanna go out one night and get yourself a one night stand."

"No, thank you. When I have free time, I rather nap in all honesty. Besides, I don't like going to strangers’ houses and I feel uncomfortable and anxious bringing people back to the apartment. What if they're a psycho and kill me and then take my son?"

Dean snorts and begins to laugh. "You've been watching a lot of I Survived, Cas, too much I think."

"I'm serious," Cas deadpans. "Did you know USA has the highest number of serial killers in the whole world?"

"God, you're such a scared little mouse."

“What about you, Dean? I don't suppose a man that looks like you has a hard time finding a partner.”

Dean stays quiet for a moment and looks down at his hands, choosing his words carefully before he decides to speak. Not a lot of people understand what he is, what it means, and in his experience, men are less open minded about his sexuality than women are. But this is Cas and if they’re going to be friends, he needs to know about Dean, they need to be able to talk about anything and everything, and Castiel has yet to ever made him feel bad about anything he says; he's a kind, understanding person, so Dean decides to tell him the truth.

"Cas, I am demisexual, so... Yeah, there's that. You know what that is?" His friend shakes his head. "It's when you need some kind of bond with a person to be able to be physically attracted to them. It's like I can see but can't _really_ appreciate people's looks, their beauty, until we form some bond. I mean, I’m not blind, I see people and I understand they look nice, but it just doesn’t make me _feel_ anything in particular. On top of that, I guess you could say I am pansexual too, I don't really care about the gender of the people I am into. To be honest dating has always been complicated and difficult, even before Jack. He just gave me an excuse to quit for a while without my brother insisting I get out there and find my one true love or something."

When the thinks about it, it's been quite an embarrassing long time since he's slept with anyone, and almost equally as long since he'd decided to temporarily give up on dating. He’s not asexual, that’s for sure, since he misses sex just as much as he misses being close to someone like that, but on top of everything that had happened to him, he didn’t want to put himself through the disappointment and the feelings of guilt that dating usually brought him.

"Why is it complicated?” Cas asks, tilting his head to the side. “It sounds quite simple to me."

Dean huffs a laugh. If only everyone thought that way... "It is but apparently a lot of people don't believe that people like me exist, like we're all just confused or prudes. I've been told all sorts of offensive shit. I thought women were going to be into the whole waiting thing when I was younger, I thought it was supposed to be romantic or something, but boy, was I wrong. Most of them think I am gay and in the closet, and that that's why I won't sleep with them. I had a guy tell me, like he knew me better than I know myself, that I was actually asexual. I wanted to tell him he was wrong, that I only just couldn't find him attractive because he was a frigging asshole, but I just stopped seeing him. He wasn't worth my time. In general, people just get tired of waiting when it's the fourth date and we haven't even kissed yet, they take it personal that I'm not attracted to them."

"I'm sorry, Dean."

Dean shrugs. "It is what it is... I do miss sex though, but one night stands don't usually work for me, I, err... you know, have problems... getting aroused... And even if I do, it just doesn't feel good at all. I've stopped forcing myself into those situations a long time ago."

"How about your friends? Why not date one of your friends?"

Dean makes a face, wrinkling his nose, and shakes his head. "Nah, my friends are just my friends, it's different. I mean, I do see their beauty more now and I do love them but it's not a romantic feeling. I did have a thing for Benny way back in the day, but he's straight, so I ate my feelings, jerked off a lot and got over it with time. I'm just..." He takes a deep breath and then sighs long and slowly. "I'm kinda frustrated with the whole dating thing."

Castiel gives him a sympathetic smile, turning the right corner of his mouth up on a half smile.

"I'm sure you'll find someone special, Dean."

"Thanks, Cas.”

It feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. It’s always like that when Dean puts himself out there and someone accepts him just as he is, without questioning his motives, his feelings, his sexuality. It’s another milestone in their friendship, so Dean feels a little more confident to start digging into Castiel’s private life too.

“Cas… Can I you something?”

Cas smiles, sparing a glance in the TV’s direction, though the movie’s been long forgotten. “Of course, Dean.”

“Do you know what happened to Jack’s mom? I know she overdosed but… I don’t know, I can’t help thinking I should have done more to help her. She was right there in the room with me, I could have said something to her, but Jack was my priority and now… I keep thinking maybe if I would have said something she’d still be alive.”

His friend sucks in a breath and averts his eyes. Cas sets his jaw and Dean waits. The silence is finally tense and Dean worries again that he’s overstepped. As he always does, he hopes for the best and remains silent as Castiel gathers himself. The man just shakes his head and looks at the screen distractedly with sad eyes.

“You couldn’t have saved her, Dean. I tried for years, but… she had a lot of issues. Depression, anxiety, sleeping problems… all made worse by the drugs I could never get her to stop taking... I know getting rid of the guilt is easier said than done, I still struggle with that myself, but it’s the truth. We couldn't have saved her.”

“Is that why you hurt yourself?” Dean asks before he can stop himself. “Because you felt guilty?”

Castiel looks up, his eyes shining in the dark. He looks like a deer caught in the headlights, then he seems to snap out of it, bites his lower lip nervously and shakes his head.

Dean’s seen them, the cuts in his arms, just once when Cas took his shirt off after a long day at work, probably forgetting the t-shirt underneath didn’t have long sleeves, and when Dean’s eyes fell on the scarred tissue, Cas all but run to his room to change into something else.

“I did it because I felt trapped. Dying seemed easier than making hard decisions or accepting myself so I took the easy way out, but, well, I didn’t even do that right… thankfully, I guess. Otherwise I would have never met Jack.”

Not too long ago Dean would have selfishly wished Castiel would have succeeded at hurting himself, since that would have meant he could have kept Jack, but he finds he genuinely doesn’t think like that anymore, that he is glad Cas pulled through.

Cas rests his head back on the back of the couch and takes a deep breath before he continues. “She was two months pregnant when I did it. I honestly didn’t know, she never told me. We had… we had a rocky relationship. I loved her, I did, just… just not the way she wanted me to. I tried, I did, I convinced myself for a long time that what we had was love, that it was normal, that it was my fault that I needed to drink to… to have sex with her... that there was something wrong with me, not our relationship. And it was true, it _was_ my fault, it just took me a long time and therapy to believe I wasn’t _wrong_ , I was just... gay.”

His voice loses volume at the end and he makes a small pause, eyes still fixed on the roof. It’s hardly a confession, but Dean sees how his body tenses up. He’s not sure whether Castiel is just not used to saying it out loud or simply not completely in peace with his sexuality yet, but either way he gives the other man time to compose himself and continue.

“Anyway,” he takes a deep breath, blinks a couple of times and turns his head around to the side to meet Dean’s gaze. “I felt trapped. At some level I knew I wasn’t happy with her, that I wanted out, that I was attracted to men, but I couldn’t leave her. I knew she depended on me, emotionally, I felt responsible for her. She didn’t have anyone else and she had a lot of issues of her own, I was afraid of what would happen to her if I broke it off. And then there was my family… they’re very religious, I knew they wouldn’t accept me as I wanted to be. They had been pressuring me to marry her for years but I knew deep down I didn’t want to, I couldn’t. It all became to much and I just... snapped.”

The fictional images come into Dean’s brain involuntarily and he pushes them away; he doesn’t want to see it, his friend hurting himself to the point he almost died. He’d be lying if he didn’t accept he sometimes studies Castiel, his facial expressions, his smiles, to see if they’re forced or honest, in fear that the depression might be back, that he might try to do something stupid again. But Cas seems like a very different man from who Dean met at the hospital not too long ago and it makes him feel proud to think it’s because of him, because Dean became his friend.

“How’d you end up in the hospital?” Dean asks.

Castiel smiles a sad smile. “Meg found me. I forgot she was coming over,” he laughs and shakes his head. “She made me check into a hospital and convinced me it was time to start living my own life, stop feeling responsible for everyone else’s. She’s tough and she _sucks_ with Jack, but she’s a good friend. I spent some long months in there and didn’t find out about Jack until two months after I was back home. I ran into some loser who used to sell drugs to Jack's mom and he asked me about the baby, like we were friends. I thought he was just trying to fuck with me, but it got me worried, so I hired someone to look for her, just in case… The rest is history.”

Dean nods a couple of times. Yes, he knows what comes after, but he doesn’t want to talk about it, doesn’t want to remember it. The past is done, today can be better.

“Cas…” Dean takes a deep breath to gather his courage; all the touchy feely sides of conversations have never been his strong suit. “I just want to say… if you ever feel like you’re about to, hmm… _snap_ , again… don’t do anything stupid, alright? You can always just call me. Or Meg. Okay?”

Castiel swallows hard and nods, blushing and possibly tearing up a bit, but Dean looks away again, feeling slightly uncomfortable like he always does when conversations get too intense, too personal; it his father’s fault, who raised him with the idea that a man eats his feelings. He said what Castiel needed to hear and now he wants to pretend the conversation didn’t even happen.

“Okay, pay attention, Dori’s about to speak whale, it’s hilarious.”

His friend frowns, utterly confused. “What do you mean, whale? I thought we established all animals spoke the same language? Except the seagulls. Do they have some kind of speech disorder? Why can they only say ‘mine’?”

“Just watch the movie, Cas!”

Four months into their friendship, Dean and Castiel don't spend more than three days without seeing each other; if they don’t go out for dinner, Dean goes over and makes some for the three of them, or they go for a walk around the park during their breaks, or they catch a movie together, or take Jack to dumb events like music classes and puppet shows, which Dean hates because the kid has the attention span than resemblances Dori’s and he obviously has no idea what’s going on most of the time, but he has to endure it for Castiel’s sake, who swears he read somewhere those type of things are good for kids’ developments.

The void inside of Dean fills up little by little. It’s not the same as when he was Jack’s father, but their bond reborns and is as strong as ever; he just looks so happy whenever they meet, the boy grins widely and his face lights up, he starts giggling and runs to Dean every time, and it’s like they were never apart in the first place. He even starts occasionally calling Dean _dada_ at one point. The first time Dean freezes and feels _bad_ about it, guilty, despite how glorious it feels in the surface, because Cas is right there and he freezes too, surprised. But then he smiles and shrugs, and when Dean starts apologising even though he hasn’t really done anything, Castiel tells him it’s okay, that there’s no point correcting Jack, he’ll understand one day. It does get somewhat confusing, though, because now they never know who the boy’s calling when he calls for his dad.

The lines start to get a little blurry when Dean meets Castiel’s friends. He invites Dean to go over for dinner with his friends, with the promise that he isn’t cooking, and as much as Dean wants to say no, he finds himself saying yes right away, never second guessing his choice; he’d do anything to see Jack.  As soon as he arrives and Meg, of all people, opens the door to him, he has to fight the urge to turn around on his heels and run to the elevator.

"Hey, Dean, long time no see," she smiles that devilish smile of hers.

Dean huffs with irritation and comes in. "What's she doing here?" he asks out loud, hearing Cas in the kitchen.

"Clarence and I are besties. Did he not tell you?"

"Yes but I was hoping you wouldn’t be here tonight."

"Oh, come on, Dean. Forget about what I said in court, it was a long time ago. I always destroy all my clients, it's nothing personal,” she says while she follows Dean to the kitchen.

Dean turns to Cas with a mocking, forced smile on his face. "I hate her."

"Aww, I hate you too," Meg teases him, patting his back and leaning to whisper in his ear, "but we're gonna be in each other's lives... forever."

"I think I am having second thoughts about coming tonight," Dean deadpans.

"Really?" Cas smiles and offers Jack to him. The boy stretches his arms out towards Dean, kicking with excitement, a happy grin in his face. "Cause I think this one is happy to see you."

Dean sighs as he takes Jack in his arms. He plants a kiss in his temple and bounces him in his arms. "The things I do for ya, kiddo..."

Gabriel, Balthazar and Meg are a snarky, flirtatious bunch who spend half their time making fun of people Dean doesn’t know and the other half going through office gossip -apparently they all work in the same place. Dean has a hard time understanding how someone like Castiel is friends with people like these, but he then explains to him, when everyone else is gone and they’re sharing a beer on the couch, that Meg is his best friend from childhood, has always been there for him, and Gabriel and Balthazar got him out of trouble when someone tried to frame him for money laundering and they’ve had his back ever since.

“I understand they can be…”

While Cas looks for words, Dean offers, “pretentious, dense, arrogant, ruthless…”

Castiel chuckles. “You don’t like my friends.”

Dean pulls his mouth into a tight line. “Sorry, I am bad at pretending to like people.”

“It’s alright, Dean. But they _are_ good friends. They are terrible with Jack, but they’ve helped me in other ways. They were there for me when I was hospitalized, they threatened to tell my employer’s wife about his affair with the secretary when he tried to fire me for being gone too long, they paid my rent too, made sure my apartment was in order. Gabriel went shopping with me when I needed things for Jack… He complained more than he helped, but you know what they say, it’s the thought that counts. You don’t have to see them again if you don’t want to, they just wanted to meet you.”

“Why?”

Dean can’t think of a single reason why Castiel’s friends would want to meet him, he’s the exact opposite of them.

“They were curious about you,” Cas averts his eyes and shrugs. Despite the dim light of the lamp in the corner, Dean’s sure Castiel’s cheeks suddenly have some colour in them. He doesn’t ask why that is, though, he drops it.

The suspicions and curiosity of Dean’s own friends do nothing but grow too and Charlie is dying to know the truth; she can’t handle secrets, that’s why she became a hacker in the first place. Jo tries to sneak a peak of whoever Dean goes to see in his breaks but theirs rarely are at the same time so she can never go outside and stalk him for long enough to see who it is he is going out to meet, but he still feeds Sam and their friends all the information.

“You’re always all smiles when you come back from your _walk_ ,” she smirks, poking Dean on the ribs until he swats her hand away.

"Come on, Dean, don't tell me you're not dating this person!" Charlie exclaims incredulously. She's had a couple of beers already and is all but about to burst with the need to dissect Dean’s love life.

"I'm telling you, I’m not dating anyone, I just made a new friend," Dean tries to explain for the hundredth time. He’s thought about speaking to Sam about Castiel but by now he’s waited too long, their relationship has grown too much and he doesn’t want to have to explain it everyone he knows. The shop clerks in his neighbourhood are confused enough as it is whenever they see him shopping with Cas and his son, they think Dean got married, he didn’t bother correcting them.

Dean can’t help thinking he could be having a drink with Cas instead right now if it wasn’t for the weekly quota he has to fulfil with his other friends so they know he’s not depressed anymore.

"Just friends, huh? Then you won’t mind bringing them to your birthday party next Saturday, right?" Sam challenges his brother.

"I don’t think so, you're going to get all weird and make him uncomfortable,” Dean says with a shake of his head.

"So it's a _he_!" Jo beams, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Yes, it's a he, so?"

"And he's got a kid?" Benny asks.

Dean chokes on his beer and coughs a couple of times. He snaps his head around, alarmed. "How'd you know that?"

Benny quirks an eyebrow, studying his friend's slightly excessive reaction. "You smell of baby powder, my friend.”

“You’re seeing a guy with a kid?” Sam asks, his expression softening. Dean can almost hear him thinking about Jack, can see the pity in his eyes and he hates it. He knows there’s an upcoming lecture about how it might not be good for him to see someone with a child.

“I’m _not_ dating him, jeez!” Dean insists, getting agitated.

“Then bring him! Come on, Dean. Please, please, please!” Charlie begs over and over again. She’s an annoying drunk.

“Son of a- alright, alright! If you promise to shut up about it, I’ll invite him!”

“Yes!” Charlie and Jo exclaim and high-five each other.

“But you gotta promise me you won’t be weird and you’ll behave!”

“When don’t we?” Benny asks. Dean shoots dagger at him with his eyes and Benny simple smiles complicity with the girls.

It doesn’t matter how much Dean tells them to be cool and that they promise him time and time again he’s got nothing to worry about, because when Castiel is the last one to arrive to his party on Saturday, they all have pretty much the reaction Dean had been expecting. Cas leaves the stroller by the door and follows Dean to the kitchen, where his friends and family are sitting around the table drinking and eating pizza. The moment they all turn with excitement to see Dean’s mysterious friend, chatter dies out and their goofy grins fall. Jack, in the other hand, babbles and shrieks a cheerful greeting.

“Guys, you remember Castiel,” Dean speaks, giving them all stern looks, warning them against behaving anything but kindly towards his friend.

“Hello,” Cas nods his head politely and tries to smile, but his shyness and the way everyone’s staring at him gets the better of him and he looks more pained than glad to be there.

“Oh. My. God,” Charlie breathes out in a quiet version of Janice’s famous phrase.

Not getting the sudden change of mood at all, Garth happily jumps out of his stool, hurries to take a sock puppet out of his pocket and waves it in his hand towards Jack, who gasps excitedly at the sight of the dreadful thing.

“Hey, Jack! Remember Mr Fizzles?” he asks Jack.

Cas takes a step back, alarmed, and leans towards Dean to ask into his ear, “does that man always have sock puppets in his pockets?”

“He’s a child psychologist,” Dean explains. It took him years to get used to Mr Fizzles and it _still_ weirds him out sometimes. Jack’s always loved that awful sock.

“Dean- what- how-” Benny opens his mouth to speak several times and closes it again.

Sam’s got his trademark bitch face on and Eileen is glancing back and forth between the brothers in anticipation of Sam’s reaction. She pats his forearm and signals something to him, but Sam huffs and jumps out of his stool, visibly upset.

“Dean, can I have a word with you? In private?” his brother pretends to ask but he’s obviously demanding it.

“Nope,” Dean replies straight away, then pats Castiel’s shoulder and encourages to take a seat next to Charlie, who quickly begins to tear up as she stretches a hand towards Jack.

“Hi, Jack, long time no see,” she tells the boy. Jo leans all over her and stretches a hand to stroke the boy’s hair.

“Hi, buddy!” she beams.

Dean smiles  to himself, feeling something warm and whole inside of him as he watches as one by one his friends introduce themselves to Castiel while they surround him to greet Jack. He’ll hear their lectures later, when Castiel’s not there, but for now they all enjoy a little of what they used to had and Jack’s again the center of attention, the object of affection of the large family he used to have. Dean likes to think now the secret’s out, maybe Jack can have that family again.

“ _Dean,_ ” Sam scolds him, giving him the _look_. He taps his foot on the floor and folds his arms over his chest, and finally Dean rolls his eyes and turns on his heels to walk out of the room with his brother close behind him. Dean doesn’t stop until they’re in his room and the door’s shut, and Sam goes off right away. “What the hell were you thinking, Dean? Are you insane? When I told you to do something to cheer yourself up, I didn’t mean go meddle into your ex-son’s father’s life! How did this even happen? How could you lie to me about it for so long?”

Dean laughs in his face. “Are you kidding me? Because I knew you’d react like this!”

“This isn’t _healthy_ , Dean! This isn’t good for you! Do you _not_ remember his lawyer calling you a pedophile in court?”

Dean shakes his head and licks his lips; he’s got no patience for this, no time either, his guests are out there, Castiel is alone with _Charlie and Jo_ , and he wants to spend time with Jack before he’s out for the evening, so if he’s a little harsher than he needs to be, he blames it on Sam.

"Look, Sam, I know what I'm doing, okay? I know you mean right, but I didn't ask for your opinion, so keep it. Cas and I, we're friends, really good friends. Hell, I’ve even had dinner with Meg a couple of times, so there, if we can put the past behind us for Jack’s sake, so should you. And yes, I wish Jack were mine but he isn't, he's Castiel’s, who is a pretty damn good father, and this is the closest I am gonna get to him, so screw it if it isn’t the healthiest thing I’ve ever done or whatever. I don't expect you to understand, but I'm a big boy, I can take care of myself. This is good for me, okay? And it works for Cas and for Jack, so please don't try to get in the way. If you're not comfortable with this, you can go, but Cas is my guest, my friend, so you'd better behave."

He doesn’t wait for an answer before he’s storming out of the room, marching without hesitation to the kitchen. Garth has Jack on his lap while Charlie and Jo surround Cas, who looks like he needs saving.

“So what sorts of things do you do together, Cas?” Jo asks her, wiggling her eyebrows.

Cas doesn’t seem to understand the implication because his answer is nothing but innocent. “Dean's been teaching me to cook. Jack hates my cooking-”

“It's not just Jack, Cas,” Dean mutters as he sits down next to Garth. Jack turns towards him and stretches his arms. Dean moves the boy into his lap almost without thinking and starts bouncing his leg up and down to entertain him.

“-and we go out for walks a lot,” Cas continues. “It's nice to have another adult to talk to, my conversations with Jack are quite one-sided and my friends aren't exactly fond of kids.”

“How can they not be crazy about this little cutie?” Jo asks in a silly voice, leaning over the table to tickle Jack’s tummy.

“This little cutie _loves_ to chew on uncle Balthazar’s ties, don’t you, buddy?” Dean smirks and winks an eye at the kid proudly. He’s defiled several of those things already. “Cas’ friends are too fancy for babies.”

“Well, we aren’t,” Sam says as he comes into the room. It doesn’t look like he’s completely put the subject to rest, but at least for now he is. He hugs Eileen from behind and stares at Jack for a long moment, fondness in his eyes. A while later, the couple will be holding the kid between them, showering him in kisses like they used to.

In fact, for a while it’s like Dean’s back in the past, when life was the best it had ever been for him, except there’s another person there he calls family now. Castiel, in his own way, fits in like he has always been a part of the gang Dean calls his family and seems to enjoy himself, despite Jo and Charlie’s efforts to get him to say something that will prove to them he’s actually in some sort of secret relationship with Dean. On his part, Dean tries to distract them by passing Jack on to them, which works for a while, until the kid falls asleep on Charlie’s arms and she goes to put him down on his crib, which Dean _still_ hasn’t gotten rid off and probably never will since Cas needs him to watch over the boy for an entire weekend soon, when he goes out on a business trip, so now he has an actual excuse to keep the thing other than utter and deep rooted denial.

When it gets late, Dean’s friends decide to take off but Cas stays behind to crash in Dean’s couch, not wanting to wake up Jack and disturb his sleeping schedule. Dean goes to his room to get some sheets and a pillow to improvise a bed for his friend on the couch, and when he goes back to the living room, he finds it empty. He makes the bed anyway and then goes looking for Cas, who is in Jack’s room, looking down at him with a sudden sad expression on his face Dean’s got no idea where it came from.

“You okay, Cas?” he ventures cautiously, his voice barely a whisper to avoid waking the child. He taps his friend’s shoulder and signals him to follow him back to the living room.

“Everything’s fine.”

“Tell it to your face,” Dean jokes, trying to dissipate some tension. Castiel doesn’t even meet his eyes when he sits down on the couch and hugs a pillow. “Look, man, it’s really okay if you’re not comfortable with my friends-”

“It’s not that at all, Dean. Your friends were very lovely. Sam gave me the whole ‘if you hurt my brother, I’ll kill you’ speech, but I understand.”

Dean’s eyes widen in horror. “He did _what_ now?”

Castiel shrugs it off. “I can’t help thinking I made a mistake. I should have left Jack with you, he had a large, loving family here. They all love him so much. With me… there’s _only_ me. It’s not fair. I was selfish dragging him away from you.”

There was a time Dean would have given anything to hear those words, but today’s not that day. He sits next to his friend and plants a hand on his knee, squeezing it gently.

“Don’t say that, Cas. You’re a good father. And an awesome friend too.”

“You were better.”

“It’s not a competition.”

Cas raises an eyebrow and sighs. “And yet you’re winning.”

“I think it’s a tide,” he smiles softly and elbows Cas, who chuckles softly. “And, you know, you’re welcome into the family if you want. Eileen hasn’t been part of the group for longer than a year, since she started dating Sam, and I only met Jo a little over two years ago at the hospital. We open new spots every year and I think you did pretty good today at the tryouts.”

“You were testing me?” Cas gasps, horrified.

Dean snorts and runs a hand down his face. “No, Cas, it was just an expression. Don’t be so literal, man.”

“Oh.” Cas blushes and smiles. It’s sweet, the way he always seems slightly surprised when he receives affection, and the look on his face when he’s embarrassed, the way his cheeks turn pink and the corners of his lips curve up shyly, it suits him, it’s when he looks the most handsome.

And just like that, the realisation of Castiel’s perfect, masculine beauty and the wave of attraction towards him hits Dean like an unexpected slap across the face.

_Holy fuck, he’s so fucking handsome. Oh, fuck. Oh, no. Oh, shit, no._

Dean sucks in a breath and jumps backwards on the couch, then up to his feet. Castiel frowns, confused by his sudden, strange reaction. He opens his mouth to ask a question, but Dean’s already backing towards his room. In his hurry, he very ungracefully runs into his coffee table and almost falls over.

“It’s late, we should probably go to- to sleep,” he babbles quickly as he does his best to avoid the urge to run and hide in his bedroom.

Castiel looks utterly confused, if not a little hurt, as he watches Dean retreat to where he cannot follow. By the time he mutters, “goodnight,” Dean’s shut the door.

Dean does his best to calm down, to quiet his mind and undo the harm that’s been done, the thoughts that have been put into his mind. He can’t unsee it, though, the sharp line of Castiel’s jaw, his muscular arms, the thick thighs, the pink, plump lips. He can’t but he _must_.

_You can’t do this, you can’t fuck this up, the risk’s too big!_

He cannot be into Castiel, can’t fall for him, because if he messes up the peaceful friendship he’s established with the man, if Cas begins to feel uncomfortable or realises they’ve gone too far, he could lose the boy he still secretly refers to as his _son_ in his mind. So he can’t daydream about how Cas is laying in the couch, probably in his underwear and T-shirt by now. He can’t fantasise about what Castiel must look like underneath the suit and trench coat he _always_ wear. He must look good as fuck though and that’s exactly what Dean imagines. It’s the first time in a long time that he starts feelings himself getting hard to the thought of someone he cares about, but he stubbornly refuses to jerk off with Cas’ handsome smile imprinted in his brain, as if he could deny the attraction if he denies his body the release. However, his mind betrays him that night, he's accumulated too much sexual frustration by now, and he dreams of Cas and all the things he would like the accountant to do to him, and when he wakes up in the morning with a very uncomfortable erection, he can’t help himself when he decides to take care of it.

When he emerges from his room, he can barely look in Castiel’s direction while he’s still fast asleep in the couch. He’s kicked his sheets off, threw them on the ground sometime during the night, and Dean groans when he finally gets a glimpse of those glorious thighs. When father and son wake up, Dean tries to pretend everything is normal, but he keeps blushing like an idiot when Cas smiles his way or unconsciously moving away when his friend touches him in the slightest. He’s quiet, withdrawn like he was never before, and Castiel must pick up the change in the atmosphere because he excuses himself and leaves with his son before Dean even has a chance to suggest they have breakfast together.

It’s been months since he felt so alone in his apartment, so hollow after seeing the Novaks. He hates change, has never coped well with it. He had _finally_ reached some sort of balance again, some kind of twisted happiness, and of course his weird sexuality had to come and ruin it for him.

Frustrated, his heart racing in his chest, he buries his face on his hands and tries to calm his breathing.

 _It’s a crush. It’ll pass. I forgot about Benny, I can forget about Cas. Just play it cool, just pretend everything’s fine_ , he tells himself.

He convinces himself it’ll work, that he only has to be patient and wait until it all gets back to normal, but as time passes by, his feelings for Castiel only grow, and yet his relationship with him appears to do nothing but deteriorate. Their silences become tense, awkward. He is mindful of how far he sits from Castiel when they are on the couch, watching a movie, making sure they never touch. Eye contact becomes rarer. He has a hard time looking at Castiel’s direction when he smiles because he looks so devastatingly handsome, Dean knows it’ll show in his face how in love he is. He feels uncomfortable calling Cas too often in case he realises Dean’s got feelings for him, even though they used to text or call each other all the time before. He invites Castiel to hang out with his friends more often not only because he wants them all to be friends but because then Dean will have someone else to focus his eyes on. He practically _yells_ at Castiel when he takes his shirt off when he gets sauce in it while they’re having dinner at Dean’s and he asks if he can borrow a new one. Cas was half way through taking it off, giving Dean a very nice view of his stomach, the V shape on his hips leading downwards, when Dean said no way too harshly, a little too loud. Embarrassed, Castiel went to the bathroom wash his shirt and put it back on, wet and still dirty. He remained pretty quiet after that. After that night, Dean can _feel_ Castiel thinking, wondering what the hell is going on between them, what he did wrong, and he wants to explain that it isn’t his fault, that they just need to wait until Dean’s over this stupid crush, but he doesn’t have the guts to talk about the obvious tension there’s between them.

Castiel does, however. He’s had enough, he hates the silence, the awkwardness, hates how Dean’s eyes are fixed on his dinner like his life depends on it, like it’d kill him to meet Cas’ gaze. Little to no good things happen to him and he’s learned the hard way that it takes courage to make oneself happy, so he takes a deep breath, gathers all his courage and gives it to Dean straight, asking the question he’d been meaning to ask since Dean’s birthday about a month ago without preamble.

“Dean, are you attracted to me?”

Dean’s fork stops mid air and he finally looks up, dumbstruck. Castiel’s fidgeting in his seat, clearly nervous. He could try to lie, he could say no, but he knows just by looking at the man sitting across the table that he’s not going to buy a bullshit lie.

“Cas, I…” Dean puts his fork down and takes a deep breath, but nothing seems to reach his lungs. This could be the moment everything goes South, the moment Cas realises they’ve gone too far and that he needs to take a step back. This could be the moment he loses both Jack and Castiel. “Look, man. I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

“I know what you’re afraid of, but you must know I would never take Jack away from you again, Dean, no matter what happens between us. You’re in our lives permanently… So just tell me, are you romantically interested in me?”

There’s a tense pause. At some level Dean believes him, knows Castiel wouldn’t be cruel enough to cast him away when it would also hurt Jack so much again, but he’s afraid, afraid to let himself hope he can have everything he wants, because life has showed him time and time again that he can’t, that it all comes down to a nasty end, _always._

Dean closes his eyes, embarrassed, ashamed. “It’s just a stupid crush, I’ll get over it. Seriously, don’t worry about it, it’s fine, Cas.”

With a broken whisper, Cas admits, “but… but I don’t want you to get over it.”

Jack looks back and forth between them, calling the both of them _dada_ as Castiel, very slowly, gets up from his chair and rounds the table to stand next to Dean. He reaches a hand out to Dean, who just stares at it for a moment before he takes in his own, unable to say no to what he wants the most in the whole world. He’s shaking, the palms of his hands feel sweaty, but he has no time to think about it as Cas pulls him up to his feet and into a chaste but bruising kiss. Dean feels dizzy, drowning for air, but still chases Castiel’s lips when he pulls away, chuckling as the sweetly stunned look on his face.

“I may be the one who doesn’t understand sarcasm, but you’re emotionally clueless, Dean,” he teases Dean. “How could you not know I’ve been in love with you for months?”

Dean blinks a couple of times dumbly and Cas laughs again. Jack gets tired of not being the centre of attention and throws his spoon flying in the air.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” Cas tells him with a defeated sigh. He turns to Dean though, pointing a finger at him. “We’re not done here, you and I have a lot to talk about. And some more kissing to do.”

* * *

Eight years later finds Castiel leading Dean through the upstairs hallway of their home. From downstairs comes the wild and happy cries of their kid and Sam and Eileen’s daughter unwrapping Christmas presents under the supervision on their friends, plus their dates -Benny’s now married, Meg and Charlie are a thing (which Dean will never understand), and Garth’s got a date. It’s right after midnight, and Dean had promised to let them open the presents if they were still up by then. They are, which doesn’t seem such a great idea anymore because the kids are now overly excited after opening up their presents and they probably won’t be in the mood for sleeping any time soon, while the adults are dying to go to bed.

Dean does, however, have energy for something else. As soon as they reach their bedroom, he pushes Castiel inside and up against the wall. He’s against him in no time, grinding his crotch against his husband’s, seeking that sweet friction that gets them both going, as he licks and nips at his neck.

Cas does a pathetic excuse of trying to stop Dean, fisting the front of his shirt and pushing him away too gently to really mean it. “Dean, stop, I really do have a present for you.”

“Is it not this?” Dean breathes hot against his ear as he cups his partner’s growing erection. Cas gasps and unconsciously leans into it.

“No, it isn’t.”

“Well, this is mine,” Dean smirks and drops to his knees, doing quick work of undoing Castiel’s belt and jeans, pulling them and his underwear down enough to release his cock. In no time Dean has it in is mouth while Cas just watches, perplexed and out of breath. He can’t even remember what it was like to pretend to be straight, it feels like he was born to do this, to have Dean using his body however he wants.

Dean works the both of them fast, jerking himself off at the same rhythm he blows Cas, swallowing him down as much as he can, stroking with his hand whatever he can’t get in his mouth. Castiel thrusts into his mouth, fingers gently pulling at his husband’s hair, and rests his head against the wall, biting his lip to contain his moans. They know each other so well Dean can pinpoint the exact moment Castiel’s about to come just by the change in his husband’s breathing. He allows Cas to thrust into his face with jerky moves as he finishes while he continues to stroke himself into completion. It lands on the floor, but he doesn’t give a fuck as Castiel pulls him to his feet and kisses him fiercely.

When he’s caught his breath, Dean asks with a devilish smirk, “did you like my present?”

Castiel nods a couple of times, panting hard. “This was supposed to be a romantic moment, Dean.”

His husband throws his head back and barks a laugh. “I’m sorry, Cas. Okay, alright, I’ll behave. Where’s my present?”

On shaky legs, Castiel goes to his nightstand, opens the first drawer and takes out a folder, then hands it to Dean.

“If these are divorce papers, I’ll be really surprised,” Dean jokes. Castiel just rolls his eyes and waits.

Dean opens the paper and the first thing he reads are the bigger bold letters in the top centre.

**JOINT PETITION FOR ADOPTION BY STEPPARENT**

He freezes. Suddenly it gets really hard to breath through the thick lump in his throat, see the papers clearly through a lens of tears.

“Cas-” he chokes.

“I didn’t know what to get you…” Cas tells him, hugging his waist from behind. “I asked Gabe for advice and he made a joke, said I should officially make you Jack’s dad, in case he were forced to murder me for being too disgustingly in love with you and Jack ended up alone again. I thought it was a great idea. In fact, I’ve got no idea why I didn’t do this sooner.”

Dean turns around on his arms and puts his own around Castiel’s neck. He’s shaking with the effort to hold back tears.

“Cas- I- I don’t know what to say...” he pulls away to look at his husband’s face and smiles through his tears. “Now I feel like a dick for giving you a blowjob as a present. You’ve set the bar too high.”

“Just say yes,” Cas whispers, nudging his nose gently, then giving him a quick peck in the lips. “Dean Winchester, will you be my son’s father?”

Dean grins widely, tilting his head to the side. “Wasn’t I always?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are much appreciated, share your thoughts and feelings on the story with me, as well as any constructive criticism!  
> Thank you for reading.  
> Hope you enjoyed the short fic, guys.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are much appreciated.  
> In the next chapter:   
> Dean fiercely fights Castiel for Jack's custody in court. Neither spares an ounce of sympathy for their rival.


End file.
